Time Will Tell
by Indiana Smith
Summary: AU: A short one-shot about what might have happened if Mordu never met Strange in Kathmandu. No Sorcerers here, just pure fluff. Palmer-Strange


**After seeing Doctor Strange I had to write something for Strange/Christine because quite frankly there just isn't nearly enough stuff out their for this great couple.**

 **I do not own Doctor Strange, and I'm definitely not making money from this.**

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The knock on the door startled Christine awake. She had fallen asleep on the couch again, medical journal sprawled open on the floor where it had fallen from her hand.

With a perturbed sigh, she extracted herself from the warm, comfy couch and trudged to the front door. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock on her cable box that read 2:30am. There was only one person will the gall to knock on her door at this time, but it'd been over a month since she last saw Stephen Strange. She tried not to think about him since he left, but it was difficult. Their last conversation constantly played through her mind. She had tried so hard to help him after his life-changing accident, but all she got in return was every bit of love she ever showed to him thrown back in her face. It was humiliating to realize you had wasted so much affection on someone who couldn't care less about you.

Christine was jarred out of her thoughts when the knocking persisted. She moved quickly to the door and looked through the peephole.

She gasped at the sight of him, and wrenched the door open. "Stephen, are you alright?" She had to force her hands not reach up to his bruised face. "What happened to you?"

His face was gaunt and his beard was longer than she'd ever seen it. There was a stitched up laceration above his left eyebrow that stood out sharply against his pale skin. In short, he looked terrible. Except for his eyes. They sparkled with the old playfulness she remembered so well. It was a long time ago when she last saw him look at her that way.

When he spoke it was as if the last few weeks never happened, and they were old friends once again.

"Turns out you're not the only one who'd like to take a swing at me." A small smile graced his lips. He stared into her eyes and she had to look away from all of the emotion she saw reflected back.

"Do you want me to check on those stitches?" she asked, "or are you here for another beating?" Her smile joined his, and soon a deep chuckle started. She couldn't remember the last time he laughed like that...

Allowing him entrance, she lead him to the living room. She knew she should be demanding an apology from him, but she just couldn't turn him away when he was hurt. She couldn't turn anything away if it was hurt. She had the fleeting suspicion this was why he decided to turn up at her doorstep looking like a kicked puppy.

He sat on her couch, standing out like a dark stain with his dirty, unkempt appearance in her pristine living room. She went to fetch her first aid kit, in case there was something that needed tending, then joined him on the couch.

They sat in silence for a moment. She waited for him to speak first, but he looked lost in his own thoughts.

Shifting her focus to the first aid kit on top of her coffee table, she began to rifle through it's contents, making note of anything that needed to be replaced. She didn't notice him moving until he took her hand in his, causing her to freeze. He squeezed her hand, and she finally looked at him. He was still smiling at her. A reassuring smile, like he was afraid she might bolt from the room, away from him at any moment. She had every right to, she knew, but his eyes were keeping her rooted to the spot. They were studying her like he was preparing to draw a portrait of her.

Perhaps seeing the discomfort his scrutiny was causing her, he released her hand and looked down to the coffee table. "It is good to see you," he said, his deep baritone so full of affection, she barely recognized it.

"I came here to tell you-" he brought a hand up and scratched at his ridiculously-long, scraggly beard. "-I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few weeks."

She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her. She had never seen him like this before. He seemed so unsure of himself, and...remorseful.

"I sold the penthouse," he said suddenly. "The clothes, the cars...it's all gone now," he swallowed thickly.

It seems he was finally accepting what happened to him. Seeing the raw emotion on his face made her emotional, and a few tears involuntarily made their way down her face. It was such a big deal for him to admit his life had to change. He had to change. She was glad he could now start helping himself, but sad that he lost such a big part of his life.

"But I wasn't thinking about any of those things lying in a hospital in Nepal for two weeks." He finally looked away from the table and up at her. His face softened when he saw her tears, and he quickly brushed them away with a feather-light touch.

Before he could return his hand to his lap, she gently took his large hand in both of hers and entwined them together, making small circles on the back of his hand with her thumbs.

He had to tear his eyes away from the sight of his damaged hand surrounded by her strong ones. Using his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small that glittered in the light.

"I was mugged." He gripped the object tightly in his fist so she could not see what it was. "They tried to take the only thing of value I had left in the world," he explained, "but they didn't get it."

Opening his palm, he revealed the watch she had given him years ago. The one she had inscribed with her love. The glass face was shattered, and it was no longer ticking, but she recognized it.

To say she was shocked would be an understatement. She thought his watch collection was the first thing to go. Never in her wildest dreams did she think he would have kept it after all this time and treasure it the way he did, if his face was anything to go by.

Clearing his throat he continued; "Lying in that hospital for two weeks...I only thought of you."

She was unable to speak around the lump in her throat, so she just squeezed his hand more tightly.

"It's seen better days hasn't it?" he asked.

"Kind of like you," she said softly, with a watery smile.

He exhaled a breathy laugh, but his face turned serious once again as he took in her puffy eyes and the tear tracks on her face.

"There were days when I would do nothing but stare at this watch and think of how horrible I was to you...to everyone, really. But especially to you." He emphasized. "I was so wrapped up in myself that I never realized how much you gave to me. Or rather, I never realized how much I took from you without giving you anything in return...Christine, I am so sorry for everything."

He turned over one of her hands so her palm was facing up. He then placed the broken watch in her hand and curled her fingers around it.

"I do not deserve your love. I never did." His eyes were glassy when he let go of her hands, leaving her holding the watch. Christine shook her head, not wanting to take back the words she would always feel for this man.

"It was a gift," she reasoned. "I want you to have it." She held out the watch to him.

He wrapped both of his hands around her offered one and once again closed her fingers tightly around the watch meant for him. "You can give it back to me when I deserve it. If I ever deserve it." He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. "I promise I will do whatever it takes to get it back."

Clutching the watch in her hand, she kissed his cheek accepting his promise. When she pulled back, she smiled at him and it felt as if a terrible weight had been lifted off her chest. The future had seemed so bleak just a few minutes ago, but now she was looking forward to seeing the changes it would bring. Stehpen Strange had learned humility, and the she knew the world would be a better place for it. She would have never believed it if she hadn't seen it for herself. The honesty in his eyes, and the sincerity in his voice was overwhelming. She couldn't stop the tears of joy running down her face.

"Maybe you should have gone to Nepal years ago," she joked.

He cradled her head in his hands, and he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. He smiled sweetly at her, and she could see the barely contained tears in his eyes.

"Kathmandu, to be specific." He winked at her.

She narrowed her eyes, there was something familiar about..."That's that Bob Seger song isn't it?"

"Katmandu, released 1975 on the _Beautiful Loser_ album." He spouted the facts rapid-fire while she rolled her eyes at his familiar antics.

"I see not everything has changed." Her cheerful eyes met his.

He didn't say a word, just pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. They fell back against the armrest of the couch and she nestled against him.

Content, they remained on the couch for the rest of the night.

Christine fell asleep holding onto an old watch and the promise of a new man.


End file.
